When I presented myself to the intake guy, it used to be that I'd tell him my name and my program (now, that I'm staff), and he'd find the appropriate binder and pull out my sheets.
Yesterday, he asked f
or my number. I told him "ExPat 40," he entered it in the computer, then sent me to the doctor in room 7.
I knocked on room 7 and entered, and the doctor looked at me, made a few mouse clicks, and apparently had my record open, because as I listed my ailments, she was typing. She assured me I'd be fine (a typical African thing that I find simultaneously endearing and maddening), and that a bacterial infection was causing the constricted breathing. She then instructed me to go to the dispensing window for my medicine. Without writing anything down.
When I got to the dispensing window, the nurse saw me, made a few mouse clicks, then told me to sit. A few minutes later I had my antibiotics and absolutely vile cough syrup.
How 'bout them apples?! The trainer in me wants to go play with that system. I'm mighty impressed.
I knocked on room 7 and entered, and the doctor looked at me, made a few mouse clicks, and apparently had my record open, because as I listed my ailments, she was typing. She assured me I'd be fine (a typical African thing that I find simultaneously endearing and maddening), and that a bacterial infection was causing the constricted breathing. She then instructed me to go to the dispensing window for my medicine. Without writing anything down.
When I got to the dispensing window, the nurse saw me, made a few mouse clicks, then told me to sit. A few minutes later I had my antibiotics and absolutely vile cough syrup.
How 'bout them apples?! The trainer in me wants to go play with that system. I'm mighty impressed.
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